


An Ineffable Christmas

by MsMoonstar



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adoption, Aziraphale and Crowley are Adam Young's Parents (Good Omens), Christmas Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Sweet Moments, Thank you Mariya!, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), fanfiction fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28228173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMoonstar/pseuds/MsMoonstar
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley adopt Adam to stop the Great Plan. Some glimpses in those 11 years.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	An Ineffable Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thelitnerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelitnerd/gifts).



> This is a gift for the Secret Santa event at the Good Omens Comic Dub Discord. 
> 
> I wanted to thank Mariya for helping me write this fic, and for her sweet art that she drew for this fic!
> 
> Merry Christmas!

A black Bently bounded down the empty English road like a bat out of Hell. To some extent, the familiar phrase was quite true. The demon Crowley was careening away from the local graveyard. He was charged with taking the Antichrist to a birthing hospital. It was the beginning of the end; Armageddon would invariably come eleven years from now. The child laying in the basket in his back seat wailed with an eardrum piercing volume, setting Crowley’s gleaming teeth on edge. He wondered what would happen if he just stopped the car here, swung the basket around and around and let go…

Something terrible, that’s what. So what to do? It would be assumed that the child could be brought up in a good family and never become evil. Then again, he really couldn’t leave it up to chance. No one would genuinely believe that this child was the son of Satan.

He continued driving fiercely down the winding road; not to his intended destination of Tadfield, but further, back to London. He was going to have a long talk with the angel.

* * *

“You did…WHAT!?” Exclaimed Aziraphale. He looked at Crowley who was holding the baby in his arms. It would have been sweet if the situation wasn’t so baffling.

Crowley had arrived at Aziraphale's bookshop and was now standing in front of the Angel with Antichrist laying in the carry cot.

“I decided to keep the Antichrist with me.” Said the demon, serenely. “I will just raise this boy by myself so he will never start Armageddon.” Crowley sincerely hoped that he sounded convincing.

This explanation didn’t help Aziraphale, and he still was concerned. So Crowley added: “Oh, don’t worry. I have a Great plan!”

“God has the Great Plan, but you have nothing, Crowley! Just admit it!” blurted Aziraphale, throwing his hands up. “Do you know what will happen if Hell finds out? They’ll destroy you!”

“Um…well… Possibly.” Crowley muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t have any idea what he was doing. Defying Hell was a one way ticket to being tortured by the imps in the most gruesome and painful way possible.

At that moment, the baby woke up. He opened his eyes and quietly started gurgling, as babies were want to do. Aziraphale was a bit concerned about the Antichrist being in the bookshop. The angel stared wonderingly at the child-the son of Satan for Heaven’s sake! The baby looked so innocent with its little blue eyes looking curiously at his new surroundings that his heart melted just a little.

They stared at him in silence until the angel asked: “A-are you sure this is the Antichrist?”

“Haha, yes, I’ve stolen a mortal baby to raise him.” Crowley said sarcastically. “It’s the son of Satan, of course.”

“Well, why did you bring the child to me?”

And Crowley doesn’t know how he should explain. Aziraphale is technically Crowley’s enemy, and he shouldn’t know about it. But they had been friends for over 6,000 years, sides be damned. Crowley knew he must answer him.

“Um… Well…”Mumbled the demon. Crowley invariably started to panic. “I’m a demon! I can’t raise a child well!” said the demon hastily.

“Since when were you 'not good' with kids’, Crowley? I remember that you were good with children back on the Ark and Egypt among other places. Do you mean I should watch over him?”

“We can raise him together! The child will be something in the middle between good and evil, like a normal human’s kid. If we succeed, Armageddon never will start!” Crowley exclaimed fiercely, holding up the baby and pointing at it.“You wouldn’t want that, Aziraphale. No more Albert Hall, no more bakeries…no more bookshop. No more bloody world, for that matter. ”

Aziraphale started to ponder Crowley’s chosen words. He hesitated. “Well...” The angel closed his eyes, cautiously drawing in a deep breath. “H-how would we do this? I mean raise-”he gestured to the baby, “him.”

“Little village. We make him our son.” Crowley said nonchalantly. “Nappies, buggies, school councils when he’s older…”

“What about-,” Aziraphale began but was cut off by Crowley.

“Your bookshop? Thought of that. We can move all your rare books into the new house if you like, or a portion of them anyway. Though I can imagine you’d want this proper place for a cover, should Gabriel or one of those annoying angels arrive unannounced. I can drive you here everyday if that’s what you really want.”

Angelic eyes promptly met serpentine gold. “And what about you and…your lot? What if they come around to your flat?”

“No problem angel. I can make a private office outta one of the rooms. They only contact me when necessary and I can instantly change it to look like my flat. Not that those Infernal idiots could tell the difference anyway.”

Aziraphale looked to the child who was beginning to fuss in the carry cot. “I-I don’t know, Crowley.” He whispered earnestly. He didn’t want the world to end-certainly, but to be in cahoots with a demon, to steal the Antichrist from the family that was supposed to invariably take him. They both didn’t know what God Herself was playing at…but they would not allow an eleven year old to be responsible for ending this phenomenal world as they knew it.

“C’mon, Angel! This is the only way we can undoubtedly save the Earth from biblical destruction!” Crowley hissed.

Aziraphale’s heart pounded “O-okay, Crowley. We undoubtedly have to try. I think with the balance, he might not become the Antichrist at all.”He smiled at Crowley as the demon had swept the baby into his arms and naturally began to gently rock him.

“Parents! I’ll be damned!” Said the angel with a silly grin.

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.”Crowley chuckled gleefully.

There was a pregnant pause. “We should give him a proper name. We can’t refer to him as ‘the child’ or Antichrist,’ Aziraphale asserted.

‘Cain? Very modern sounding.” Crowley suggested.

“Really Crowley?” the Angel sniffed. “How about Bartholomew?”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to be incredulous. “Bart? There’s a T.V. character named that who’s a hellion. Plus Bart can be a name that’s made fun of.”

They had gone through every name in the Bible that either Aziraphale had read, or someone they had known without luck.

Sighing wistfully, Aziraphale took a turn carefully holding the baby while sitting down in his plush armchair. It was late into the night, and his cocoa had long gone cold. “Crowley? He’s the child of original sin, right? Lucifer's fall gave rise to Hell, and the Garden introduced humanity. The beginning came with his existence?”

Crowley tipped his head back tiredly over the stuffed couch. “Hmmm...yeah?”

“How about-emm...how about Adam?”

The demon sat up, glancing shrewdly at them with some thought. “Adam?” He got up and stood next to Aziraphale to glance at the sleeping baby with some thoughtfulness. “Adam sounds like the perfect name, Angel.’ He tickled Adam’s feet with a small chortle. “Welcome to the family, Adam.” 

* * *

**Christmas 2008 (6 months old)**

"Crowley, my dear?" Aziraphale called from the living room as he placed yet another present underneath the Christmas tree. "Do...em...do you think we're spoiling Adam just a little bit?"

Three months earlier, they had moved to a modest house in the village of Tadfield. The town was all a buzz with talk of the two odd men moving in with their baby. But it soon died down and they were quickly accepted into the fold. Aziraphale soon joined the church, while Crowley was known for his garden. Or rather, the neighbors frequently overheard the fiery-haired man screaming at his plants.

"Oh, I don't think so, Angel." Crowley replied, putting down his wine glass and sauntering over to him. Adam was in his carry cot on a low table in front of the tree. "It's his first Christmas after all. And I want to teach him greed early." He smirked at Adam, "You don't mind, do you little man?"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale hissed.

The demon grinned, "I'm kidding, Angel." He withdrew Adam from the cot and placed him in Aziraphale's arms."Hold him a second, will you?"

Crowley backed up and whipped out his phone. "Smile!" He called. There was a click, then the demon returned to Aziraphale's side. "It came out perfectly, Angel! Okay, my turn!" He handed the angel his phone and took Adam.

"I em....don't know what to do, Crowley." He sighed.

"Just turn the phone on its side and press the button on the screen, Angel." Crowley instructed, while bouncing Adam in his arms.

There was a click again before Aziraphale returned to them. "How's that?"

"You've got your finger in the way, angel." Crowley returned, handing back the phone.

"I'll never get the hang of this current technology." Aziraphale muttered while retreating back to capture another picture. When he had finished, the angel went back to his demon's side.

"Good one, Angel. I'm gonna get you into the 21st Century in no time!" He held out the phone again, squeezing Aziraphale close to him. "Selfie time!"

In the early hours of the morning that night, Aziraphale was woken by Adam crying plaintively in the nursery. Sleepily, he elbowed Crowley. "Darling, the baby is crying."

The demon just mumbled under his breath before continuing to snore. The Angel sighed, threw aside his covers and padded down the hall to the baby's room. Adam's crying softened as the angel reached him.

"What's the matter with my dear angel, hmm?" Aziraphale murmured, hefting him out of the crib to cradle him. After all the usual checks, the angel crooned, "Are you just hungry? C'mon, let's get you something to eat, okay sweetheart?"

Together, they descended the back steps to the kitchen, where Aziraphale started heating a bottle. Aziraphale hummed Christmas songs until the bottle was warmed. He ambled to the rocking chair in their sitting room Crowley bought him and settled in it. Adam happily drank, while the angel flicked his fingers and switched on the Christmas tree lights. He gently sang 'Silent Night' then glanced to the tree that they had trimmed together.

" _Sleep in Heavenly Peace...._

_Sleep in Heavenly Peace...._ "

Crowley went downstairs practically and hour later, fearing that something had happened to Aziraphale and Adam. He found the angel fast asleep with the Antichrist, his halo glowing in the semi-darkness. The demon snapped, miracling his phone, then got a photo with a smile.

* * *

**December 2015 (7 years old)**

"There we go!" Crowley exclaimed as he finished putting the final section of Christmas lights on the living room window. 

Aziraphale popped his head out of the kitchen door to look, a spatula in his hand and bowl balanced in the crook of his arm. "That looks quite nice, Crowley!" He declared, sidelling over to the demon to join him, giving him a kiss on the temple. "Who knew you were so good at decorating?" 

"Ngk....just don't spread it around Angel." He huffed, his cheeks turning slightly crimson. 

At that moment, the door burst open, Adam running to them with tears flooding his face. 

"Daddy! Pappa!" The seven year old threw himself into Crowley's arms. 

"What's wrong, lad?" Crowley inquired gently. 

Tearful hazel eyes met gold ones. "G-Greasy Johnson said that there was no such thing as Santa and I was a baby for believing in him!" He looked up to the demon, "Is there, daddy?" 

Crowley gritted his teeth as Aziraphale embraced his son as he tried to console him. When Adam had finally calmed down, Aziraphale said, "Why don't you go get some cookies, darling? I just made your favorite-chocolate chip! We're going to see how the lights look from outside." Adam's face lit up as he bolted to the kitchen. 

They both stepped out into the front lawn, Crowley growling. "I swear I'm going to give that kid nightmares for years! That Johnson boy has been nothing but a pain in the arse since Adam started nursery school." 

"Crowley! Please, don't be so cruel." Aziraphale admonished. "We're just going to have to have a word with the boy's parents." 

"Meantime, what are we going to do about our son? I don't want him to stop believing in Santa yet, he's too young, I don't want to hurt his imagination. Remember when he wrote that pirate detective story?"

Aziraphale blinked in disbelief. "I'm surprised that you're taking his upbringing so seriously Crowley." 

"I want to inspire evil in him, not quash his imagination." The demon huffed. He looked contemplatively at the angel, then broke into a smile. "I know what we can do. He poked Aziraphale.

"No, Crowley!" Aziraphale yelled loud enough for the neighbors to practically hear. "I know what you're thinking and the answer is no." 

"C'mon Aziraphale, you'll make a great Santa. You can miracle yourself up the chimney! Listen, here's the plan...."

Nearly a week later on Christmas Eve, Crowley tucked Adam into his makeshift bed on the couch. 

"You sure Santa will be here?" Adam asked for the 16th time in an hour.

"I promise! But if you don't go to sleep, he won't show up at all." Crowley warned, while fluffing the pillow for the second time. He kissed Adam on the forehead. "Goodnight, lad." 

"Night' daddy!" Adam piped, settling in while pulling the cover over his head.

Chuckling, Crowley made for the master bedroom, where Aziraphale was waiting, fussily adjusting the Santa suit he wore in the mirror with a quiet mutter.

eme

"You, look wonderful, darling." The demon remarked. "But it's missing one thing...." He kissed Aziraphale, causing a flush to rise on the angel's cheeks. When they pulled apart, he snickered, "Perfect, now you have the rosy cheeks! You remember the plan?"

Aziraphale nodded, hesitating. "A-are you sure this is going to work?" 

Crowley shrugged, "If he figures out it's you, we'll tell him that you're a em....angel of Santa...or something." 

Two hours passed and Crowley slipped down the stairs to glance into the sitting room and finding Adam asleep. He waved from the top of the stairs, he waved the signal to Aziraphale in the kitchen, who promptly disappeared, re-appearing in the glowing embers of the fireplace. Luckily he had cast a miracle to stop himself from being burnt in the process. He stomped to the tree, hoping that Adam would awaken. The boy did while he finished putting a few more presents under the tree. 

"Santa?" The tiny voice called out.

Aziraphale turned and remembered the prompting Crowley had taught him. "Ho Ho Ho!" He bellowed while holding his stomach, "You've been a good boy, Adam. Santa is very pleased! Now you'll be a good boy next year so I can come back and see you, alright?" Aziraphale ruffled the boy's head before stepping into the fireplace. Touching his nose (and with a snap of his fingers behind his back) he disappeared up the chimney just as they had planned. He made sure to miracle the sound of hoofbeats on the roof, before calling the reindeers names majestically, With one more miracle (this one to create a fog so that Adam wouldn't be able to see out the window) the angel returned to the warmth of the house. 

The angel and demon both regrouped in their bedroom, Crowley awaiting his angel who soon re-appeared, quickly miracling his Santa suit into his usual pair of pajamas and pretending that he had been asleep. 

Adam burst in a moment later, shouting and bouncing on their bed. "Daddy! Pappa! I saw him! I saw Father Christmas!" 

"Oh really?" Crowley feigned a yawn, as did Aziraphale. 

"He said if I was a good boy, he'd come see me next year too!" Adam squealed, his face full of light. "Can we go open presents now?" 

Aziraphale frowned, "Now young man, you know the routine. No presents until everyone is awake and we have breakfast." 

"Awww, pappa!" Adam pouted. 

"Bed, mister." Crowley affirmed. "You got to stay up to see Santa and now you need to go to bed in your room." 

"Okay," The seven year old grumbled, before giving each of them a kiss on the cheek and shutting the door behind him. 

This time, Aziraphale yawned for real and settled back, "I think we should tell him the truth next year. I don't want to go back up on the roof again, it's too damned cold!" 

* * *

**December 26th, 2018 (10 years old)**

Crowley woke to find Aziraphale's side of the bed empty. Drowsily, he got out of bed and went searching for his angel. By the time he had reached the landing of the stairs, he could hear quiet singing from the sitting room. The demon heard the words as he got closer. 

" _Through the years we all will be together_

_If the fates allow_

_Hang a shining star upon the highest bough_

_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now_ "

Aziraphale's voice trailed off, his shoulders beginning to shake silently. 

"Angel?" Crowley called out gently.

Aziraphale started and turned on-heel to face him, wiping away tears. "Oh, my dear, I didn't hear you come in." he sniffled.

Crowley looked thoughtfully at the angel. "Aziraphale, what's wrong?" 

The angel tried smiling, "Nothing, Crowley." He looked at the tree, "Just sad that it's over." 

"You never cry at the end of Christmas, Aziraphale." A pause ensued before Crowley added, "What's wrong, Angel?"

Now it was Aziraphale's turn for silence. His eyes began tearing again. "It's next year...isn't it? Adam will..." He silently broke into tears. 

Crowley embraced the angel with a consoling voice. "Aziraphale, don't worry. We've raised him right; he won't become...he won't destroy the world." 

"B-but what if he does? What can we do if he-?" 

"Faith, angel. You have to have faith in us, and in Adam." 

Tears still in his eyes, Aziraphale nodded, when Crowley hugged him again.

"C'mon, let's go to bed, honey. Adam is bringing his friends over tomorrow. Heaven knows we'll know our energy." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**August 20th, 2019 (11 years old)**

Aziraphale finished icing Adam’s birthday cake with a solemn glance and a flourish. 

“Crowley, I-I’m nervous about telling Adam about his powers.”

The demon had finished putting up the birthday banner, then sauntered into the kitchen. He swiped a bit of icing off the cake and placed it in his mouth. It earned a withering look from the angel. 

“We agreed to tell him, angel. He has to be prepared for what’s to come.” Crowley put his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders. 

“I suppose so,” Aziraphale nodded while putting on the candles .“But to tell him that he is Satan’s son…” 

“I know.” A hesitation then Crowley said, “Eh...there’s something I should tell you. Don’t be surprised if Adam comes home with a dog.” 

Aziraphale dropped the forks he was setting out. “W-what? Crowley!” 

Crowley elevated his hands mildly, “Not my doing, Angel. Orders from Downstairs. They assigned him a HellHound. He’s meant to name it: Killer or Stalks by Night. If he doesn’t name it and sends it away, we’ll be safe.”

“A-and if he does?”

Crowley stiffened, “Then he’ll get all his powers and Armegeddon will begin.” 

Their conversation drew to a swift end as they heard the front door open and Adam call out that he was home.

“We’re in here, Adam!” Aziraphale called back. The angel and demon gave each other knowing looks in the few seconds before the boy appeared. To their surprise, there was a dog by the boy’s side. But it looked like a mutt, not a frightening seven foot hound from the bowels of Hell. 

“Adam, who is this?” Crowley asked, gesturing to the mutt. 

“A dog?” He replied innocently. “I was just telling Brian, Pepper and Wensleydale what kind of a dog I would want and he kind of just...appeared out of nowhere. I named him Dog. Can I keep him?” 

They looked at each other with some dismay. “We’ll talk about that in a bit.” Have a seat.” 

Adam sat in one of the counter seats, and his parents followed, looking awkward as they did so. 

Aziraphale broke in, “In the meantime, we need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, what’s up?” 

“Em…” Crowley began, “Adam. in the next few days you might start to feel differently…” 

“Uh is this ‘The Talk’? Because Pepper and Wensleydale already kinda told me about that…” 

“I-what?!” Crowley exclaimed, getting up suddenly. “I swear those kids…” 

“Crowley, focus please.” Aziraphale scolded. He then returned to the boy, “Adam, listen to me. You know you were adopted by us?” a nod, then the angel went on. “It’s because you were meant to go to another family to be raised, but we…decided to intercede and raised you ourselves.” 

“You’ve repeatedly asked me why my eyes looked odd, and I told you they were a condition.” Crowley supplemented. “That wasn’t true. It’s because your father and I...well, we’re not exactly humans…and neither are you.” 

“What do you mean?” Adam asked with a confused tilt of his head and eyes wide. 

“I think we’ll just have to prove it to him, Crowley.” Aziraphale whispered. Closing his eyes, he summoned his wings into the mortal plane, as did Crowley. “I’m an angel of Heaven, Adam. And your dad is a demon from Hell.” 

Adam actually looked gobsmacked. 

Folding their wings, both angel and demon put their hands on their son’s own. “Let us tell you a story that started 6,000 years ago.” Crowley began, “In the Garden of Eden…” 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**August 25th, 2019**

"You're not my dad. You never were! My dads are right behind me!" Adam proclaimed to the looming flaming specter of Hell. 

"No, no, no NOOOO!" Satan screamed, retreating back to the depths of hell, leaving in a mist of ash as though he had never appeared at all.

Turning, Adam flashed his fathers a broad grin while running into their extended arms. “We did it!” 

“Definitely did. You did it.” Crowley pronounced, kissing the boy on the top of the head. 

“We’re extremely proud of you, Adam.” Aziraphale added, hugging him tightly. “And I’m appreciative of you kids too. Those speeches against the Horspersons were quite moving. Much obliged all for helping us.” He said sincerely, nodding to Anathema, Newt, Shadwell and Madame Tracy. 

“We couldn’t let the end of the world come, dear!” Madame Tracy pipped. 

“Thank goodness Agnes Nutter was on the money with her prophecies!” Anathema pipped with a sly smile. 

“How would you all like to come to the house for tea next Saturday?” Aziraphale offered, which provoked a chorus of enthusiastic agreement. 

“You kids better get home,” Crowley advised watching the sun sink even farther down the horizon. 

“Okay! See you tomorrow, Adam!” They shouted as they mounted their bikes and rode off. 

“We’ll get back to Jasmine Cottage in Newt’s car. See you all later.“ Anathema affirmed, taking her young man by the arm and half dragging him away. 

“Will you two be alright getting back to London on your bike, Madame Tracy?” Aziraphale asked with some dismay at the battered motorbike.

“Oh don’t worry dear, we’ll manage, dear.” Madame Tracy replied with a wink. 

“You’ll never make it back in that bucket,” Crowley spouted with an eye roll. Flicking his finger, the 15 year old motorbike became a brand new red Vespa.

“Oh….that’s marvelous!” Madame Tracy beamed. The pair jumped on it with glee (or at least, Tracy did) and waved. Bless you, Mr. Crowley! See you next Saturday!” 

The sun was practically behind the horizon when Aziraphale grazed Adam’s shoulder. “C’mon son, let’s go home.” 

* * *

**December, 2019**

In the darker school auditorium, Aziraphale and Crowley sat together, holding hands as the St. Benedict’s primary school. A song began to swell as the children appeared on stage, singing the opening chords of the Christmas Canon.’ 

“Pepper doesn’t seem very pleased, does she?” Crowley whispered, which made Aziraphale nod in agreement. The girl’s hair was arranged into two braids on either side of her hair and she displayed an annoyed expression. Next to Adam was his other friends, singing joyfully as the fake candlelight lit their faces.

Beside him, Crowley heard a quiet sniffle. Looking over, he saw tears falling onto the Angel’s cheeks. 

“Aziraphale?” He glanced at the angel with some confusion. 

“It’s nothing my dear.” He answered shakily, wiping away the tears, with a smile. “I’m so glad we saved the world and saved Adam.” 

They regarded the children singing. Holding the angel close, he whispered “Me too, Angel.” 

**_Merry Christmas pupcakes!_ **

**_(Mariya's Art)_ **

  
  



End file.
